Chapter Two

Hisoka had given Tsuzuki quite the hard time about having to go enroll, but in truth had only been doing it because the wide-eyed puppy-faced look he'd gotten had been so hilarious. Not that he would ever tell Tsuzuki this. He had allowed the other Shinigami to usher him off to the school building and promise him pie when he returned.

He hadn't had the heart to remind Tsuzuki that he wasn't very fond of pie.

So now he was sitting in the school office, and it felt like he had been filling out paperwork for hours. They couldn't possibly need to know this much about him. Fortunately, he had an alternate identity that he always used for this specific purpose. It could sometimes be annoying, but the school records were kept up to date and he didn't have to worry about appearing out of nowhere.

"So you're signing up for the music department?" the secretary asked him, looking over his papers.

"Hai," Hisoka said. "I was hoping to get into Nobuo-sensei's class. I heard he was a very good instructor."

She nodded. "He has some spaces open. You've prepared your piece to audition?"

Hisoka's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Au-audition?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as shocked as he thought he did. "I need to audition to get into the music department?"

The secretary straightened up. "This is a very competitive school, of course you have to audition. What instrument do you play? Or are you a vocal performer?"

"Uhm, yes," Hisoka blurted out. He didn't play any instruments, so singing was his only option. He sighed slightly. He hadn't really included 'make idiot out of self' high up on his agenda. He considered just signing up to be in school regularly, without being in the music department, but going undercover wouldn't do as much good if he never saw Nobuo-sensei. If he didn't manage to get in, he could still enter as a normal student.

The secretary checked her watch. "The head of the music department, Sanemi Kai, is free this period. If you go down, he might be able to give you your audition now. I'll call to let him know you're coming."

Hisoka nodded. Face bright red, he wandered away, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He found the music building with no trouble, since he had seen Tsuzuki going in and out of it the day before. There was a directory on the wall which Tsuzuki hadn't seen, and he used it to locate Sanemi's office.

He knocked hesitantly on the door and a middle-aged, balding man opened it. "Good morning," he said politely, wondering if he should explain why he was there.

"Morning," Sanemi replied. "Please come in. Michi-san called to tell me that you'd be coming. So you're a singer, huh?"

"Of sorts," Hisoka managed. The man's office was spacious and nicely decorated, with a worn and obviously well-loved piano in one corner.

"Do you have a piece prepared?" Sanemi asked, seeing that Hisoka was obviously ill-at-ease in the situation. "Don't worry if you don't. A lot of the students who come in didn't realize that they had to, and since this is only high school level, not higher, it's not so much of a big deal. You would have to audition again to get into the choir, but you can take care of that next week."

Hisoka nodded and relaxed slightly. "No, I didn't bring anything. I mean, I know a song that I could sing, but I didn't prepare."

"Well, let's start with this . . ." Sanemi settled at his piano and started Hisoka singing scales. Hisoka did his best to follow along with what the man played, and hoped that he didn't sound like a total idiot. After that, the man had him do some exercises in which he sang back what he had been played. He frowned slightly when Hisoka couldn't read music other than to stab wildly at the notes, guessing based on how far apart on the scale they were.

"Do you want to sing that song you know?" he finally asked.

Hisoka, feeling as if he might as well do the thing properly, and also rather ashamed that he hadn't been able to read music, nodded. Without further hesitation, he set off on a lullaby his mother had once sung to him. Though he had never by any means been beloved in his family, it was only once his powers started to assert themselves that he had been scorned. Any good memories of his childhood were from when he was very young, and the song was one of them.

Sanemi sat and listened silently until Hisoka finished, red in the face and looking highly embarrassed. "That was actually quite good," he said. "You've never had any formal training?" Hisoka, slack-jawed, managed to shake his head. "For someone so inexperienced, you have good tonal quality. You're not good now, but you definitely have potential to be so."

"Thank you, sir," Hisoka managed.

"You'll have to learn to read music, of course," Sanemi said. "I'm quite surprised that you haven't yet. In any case, I'll give Michi-san a call and tell her to go ahead and schedule your classes." He gave Hisoka a benevolent smile. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again soon, ne?"

Hisoka nodded, and left the office in a daze.

* * *

While Hisoka had the immense pleasure of enrolling in school and attending classes, Tsuzuki had the joy of locating them a hotel to stay in on the very limited budget Tatsumi was allowing them, a task which happened to take him all day. Tatsumi had always been of the opinion that more expensive did not necessarily mean better quality, but as far as Tsuzuki was concerned, when it came to hotels, expensive was better.

He had eventually found a modest one that was a little more than what Tatsumi had wanted them to pay, and it did mean he would have to skip a few desserts… but sometimes sleeping on a comfortable bed was more important than sweets.

Sometimes.

As Hisoka had no idea where he was, after he had made the arrangements and gotten everything settled, Tsuzuki started over to the school to 'pick him up.' He had a feeling Hisoka wasn't going to appreciate his kindness very much, but imagining the scowl that would appear on his face just made Tsuzuki smile.

Thus, when Hisoka walked out the school doors that afternoon, he found Tsuzuki standing there, hands in the pockets of his trench coat and a grin on his face.

"How was school?" he asked immediately, a little more than a grin on his face.

Hisoka gave him a look that bordered between disgust and annoyance. "It was school," he said. "I got lots of homework that I'm going to take great joy in making you do. I got into the music program, but by the time I was all scheduled, the class I would have had with Nobuo-sensei was over. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to get an impression of the man."

"Well, that's okay, we've got time," Tsuzuki replied. "I got us a hotel."

Hisoka lifted an eyebrow at him. "Is it within the budget?" he asked, knowing full well that Tsuzuki's taste in hotels was somewhat different from Tatsumi's.

Tsuzuki grinned. "Sorta. Don't worry, we can afford it."

They maneuvered their way through the throngs of students rushing out the doors in a hurry to get home, onto the sidewalk and toward the inner city.

"Na, did they make you do anything to get into the music program?" he asked curiously as they walked.

Hisoka shrugged. "I had to fill out a lot of paperwork," he said. He knew that he wasn't a very good liar, and that Tsuzuki would probably see right through him, but he wasn't talking about that travesty of an audition unless it became absolutely necessary.

"How're you going to pull off singing?"

Hisoka arched an eyebrow at him. "How do you know I can't?" he asked loftily.

The minute the question was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He had just been somewhat miffed by Tsuzuki assuming he had no talent whatsoever, and had forgotten who he was dealing with.

Tsuzuki perked up instantly. "Can I hear you sing?"

"No!" Hisoka snapped immediately, with a bit more vehemence in his voice that he had actually intended. He didn't like doing things that he felt he wasn't good at, particularly not in front of other people. Bad enough that he'd had to make a fool of himself (as he thought he had) in order to go undercover. Singing in front of Tsuzuki simply was not an option.

Tsuzuki deflated. "Okay…" He knew not to press the issue by the tone of voice Hisoka had used with him.

Hisoka saw the hurt look in Tsuzuki's eyes and sighed. "Sorry . . . I didn't mean to snap." He frowned slightly, and added, "That much. It was just a long day. I didn't know I was going to have to audition, and I don't like making a fool of myself. Let's just go back to the hotel."

Tsuzuki looked at him a moment, puzzled, then relaxed into a smile.

"It's okay, Hisoka," he said. "Maybe I can get you to sing for me some other time."

* * *

The first few classes Hisoka had definitely qualified as boring. He did his best to keep himself interested and attempt to pay attention, without actually having much luck. However, he was having an amusing time imagining Tsuzuki trying to wrestle with the trigonometry homework that he was going to have.

He simply refused to do it himself. Tsuzuki was going to find out firsthand why he hated going undercover at schools so much.

Hisoka scowled down at the pad of paper and incomprehensible numbers. If only he hadn't died at the utterly stupid age of sixteen . . . he shook the thoughts off. Shinigami, more than anyone, knew to not question death. Of course, his had not exactly been scheduled. But it was still death, and that was natural and not something to be questioned.

Besides, he had too much else to think about now. He didn't want a certain evil doctor clouding his thoughts and emotions.

He plodded along through the trigonometry class, wondering who on earth had decided it should be the first class of the day. Numbers weren't something that should be dealt with in the morning. After that, he had a Japanese literature class that seemed interesting enough. He actually began to regret he wouldn't be there to benefit from it longer.

After that, he went to his music class. It was the one he was dreading most. To begin with, he would finally meet Nobuo-sensei. Secondly, and much more frightening in his opinion, he might have to sing again. This time, it might be in front of his other classmates. Just imagining the kind of reaction he might get was making him blush all the way to his ears.

He slid into a seat and waited for the professor's arrival. The other students nodded to him politely, but did not question his presence.

Hisoka could hear the campus bell chiming ten o'clock in the morning, the hour at which the class was supposed to start. Nobuo-sensei still did not appear. From the casual appearance of the other students, Hisoka guessed that this was a regular occurrence. Still, it seemed like something to check on.

The girl sitting to his right had out a piece of sheet music, and was studying intently. Hisoka leaned over and cleared his throat. "Uhm . . . 'morning," he said, wishing for the thousandth time that he was better at social interaction.

She put down the sheet music and smiled at him. "Good morning," she said. "You're new, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Aa . . . my name is Kurosaki Hisoka. I just started today."

"I'm Kashiko Yuiko," she introduced herself, giving him another reassuring smile. "Are you worried? Nobuo-sensei is always late. But he's an excellent teacher, I promise."

"Has he always been like this?" Hisoka asked curiously.

Yuiko frowned slightly. "Well, no," she admitted. "It started a few weeks ago, and it's been getting worse. But we all like him so much that we don't really want to tell the administration. He's just a bit disorganized, that's all."

Hisoka wanted to pursue this subject further, but before he could say anything, the door opened and Nobuo-sensei walked in. Hisoka tensed involuntarily and forced himself to gather a physical impression before using his empathy. 'Disorganized' hardly seemed the word for the professor. His black hair was unbrushed, and his clothes looked like they had several days wear. He had a distracted air about him, as if he was paying attention to something that was far away from all of them.

He did not introduce Hisoka to the class, as his other two professors had. Hisoka didn't think that the professor particularly realized he was there.

Hisoka took a deep breath, then slowly let down his shields. He relied on them constantly, to keep him from being overwhelmed by the thoughts of everyone around him. Being a Shinigami had brought him a few good things, and that measure of control was one of the most treasured. Tatsumi, he of the Iron Inner Control, had taught him how to shield.

The moment his shields were down, anger washed over him. More than anger; cold fury. He slammed his shields back up against the force of it, but some of it still leaked through. He had lost that measure of separation, and it would take time to build his shields back up to full strength. But he was certain now of at least one thing: Nobuo Ukyou knew that he was supposed to have died.

Hisoka managed to pull himself together enough to manage the rest of class. After nearly fifteen minutes of teaching, Nobuo turned to him. His eyes rested uncomprehendingly on Hisoka for a minute before he spoke again. "You're new here."

"Aa." Hisoka stood up and bowed slightly. "Kurosaki Hisoka. I started here today." Nobuo continued to simply gaze at him, leaving him feeling as though more were required. "The secretary told me that you would have been informed."

Nobuo shrugged slightly. "Yes, I suppose they probably sent me some paperwork or . . . something like that. Take your seat. We will continue the lesson."

Hisoka nodded and slid back into his seat, feeling shaky. He couldn't be certain that Nobuo had murdered the other students, but if he'd had to bet his month's salary one way or another, he knew which way it would have gone. There was just something about that even, empty gaze that made him shiver.

He didn't dare take his shields down again.

* * *

Tsuzuki felt somewhat useless, staying behind at the hotel all day long while Hisoka did all of the real work, and even a little guilty. Of course, the feeling didn't last for more than hour. Ordering room service had perked him right back up again, until he had realized that Tatsumi would be taking the expense straight from his own paycheck, which only succeeded in depressing him all over again. And he proceeded to cheer himself right back up by ordering in some Chinese food from a local restaurant.

He was tangling lo mein noodles around his chopsticks when the door was opened and Hisoka entered. He had the grace to pause mid-bite to greet him.

"How was school?" he asked cheerfully.

Hisoka thumped down a pile of books and notebooks in front of him. "Trigonometry, chemistry, and Japanese history," he said. "The last you ought to be good at -- you lived through the era we're studying. And it's all due tomorrow." He had no plans on telling Tsuzuki that as long as they went to get Nobuo, he wouldn't have to go to school the next day, or turn any of the homework in. He wasn't going to say anything about that until after Tsuzuki had done it all.

Or at least most of it.

Tsuzuki stared at the mounds of books and papers before him, eyes widening ever so slightly more as he glanced at a new book or paper.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Hisoka glanced at him, then at the food, then flopped down on the bed and smiled innocently at him. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you."

Tsuzuki looked up from the books. "They assign this much homework on the first day?"

"It wasn't the first day for me," Hisoka reminded him, exasperated. "I came in the middle of the semester. They assigned me the same that everyone was assigned. You're lucky I've done this before or I'd have a pile of makeup work on top of it. I'm not even making you do the work for all my classes."

Sighing, Tsuzuki opened the trigonometry book and began to flip through the pages. He had never actually gone to school. What he had learned, his sister had taught him, and all of these numbers and strange symbols had never been something she had mentioned. He could feel a headache coming on as he tried to read even the directions.

"I don't get it," he complained wearily.

Hisoka did his very best to fight back laughter. In the end, he did manage, but he couldn't hold back the smile. It seemed to be the first time he'd smiled since Kyoto, and it made him feel better. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, particularly Tsuzuki. "You've never taken any higher math?" he assumed, forcing the smile back.

"I know how to multiply and divide," Tsuzuki said, a little exasperated. "Um. That's about all." Admitting it made him feel a slight pang of shame mixed with embarrassment, and he looked back down at the book, frowning at its pages.

Hisoka debated, for a minute, the idea of trying to explain it to Tsuzuki, but teaching him enough to do trigonometry would be far more work that it was worth it. "Well, at least do the history," he said, doing his best to sound very put out and hide the fact that he was having trouble hiding his smile.

"Okay," Tsuzuki relented. History sounded like something he could do.

Pushing away the homework for the time being, he picked up his box of lo mein and resumed eating. "So what did you think of Nobuo?"

Hisoka paused, giving the matter one last thought before voicing his opinion. "I think he's almost definitely the murderer," he finally said. "I only let my shields down for a minute, but that was enough. He knows that he was the one who was supposed to die . . . and he's furiously angry about it."

He sighed slightly, pushing one hand through his hair. "He just doesn't . . . understand. That sometimes people have to die."

Tsuzuki was sympathetic. He had encountered countless people that had feared the inevitable death, and when it came for them, they tried to run from it or hide away. It always caught up to them in the end . . . that was how death worked. But it always saddened him. Sometimes, he honestly wished they could have escaped.

"Then I guess just waltzing up to him and asking him to come to Meifu is out of the question."

"I sincerely doubt he'd come quietly," Hisoka said with a sigh. "And I don't know why he's been killing the other children. Maybe some type of spell to prolong his life . . . I don't know." His voice was tinged with weariness. He wasn't about to admit that the case was getting to him, but something about the look in Nobuo's eyes was bothering him. It was unfair. Maybe not as unfair as his own death had been, but still unfair. He knew how Nobuo felt. And as much as he reminded himself that the man was a murderer, he couldn't help but feel pity for him.

"Maybe," Tsuzuki murmured, but he wasn't sure if that was the case. If he were in fact doing it to continue his life along, both he and Hisoka would have noticed some kind of magical residue around him. Tsuzuki hadn't been able to see anything when he had met him.

"I guess we should just keep an eye on him for awhile," he said. "Until we figure out something to do."

Hisoka wanted to protest, for quite a few reasons. The fact that the first that came to his mind was 'but I don't want to have to do my homework' made him feel childish and silly, so he bit it back. He also didn't want to chance having to sing in front of his classmates -- surely they would realize that he didn't really belong in the class. If they realized, Nobuo might realize. That couldn't be good.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked. "The longer we watch, the more chance there is that he'll realize we're not . . ." His voice trailed off as he searched for a suitable word, and he came up with nothing. "That we don't belong here," he finally amended.

"But that might be to our advantage," Tsuzuki replied. "He may confront one of us, and that gives us a better chance of taking him back to Meifu."

Hisoka shrugged and looked at the pile of homework. "I guess."

"Don't worry, Hisoka. It'll work out all right."

* * *

Hisoka yawned, leaning against the chain link fence and waiting for Tsuzuki. The older Shinigami had announced that morning that he was going to come walk with him that day. Hisoka had been too tired to argue. He had been up late doing the trigonometry, and he was still sure that most of it was incorrect.

At least Tsuzuki had actually done the history for him.

He was tired after a long day of school, though he had fortunately evaded having to sing again. He didn't think he would be able to manage it another day, and was desperately hoping that he wouldn't have to go. He had another huge pile of homework and he didn't want to have to do that, either.

As it turned out, homework would end up being the least of his worries.

A pair of arms locked around him from behind, one across his middle to pin his arms to his sides, the other around his shoulders to press a hand against his mouth. He struggled to get away, kicking and wriggling his entire body, but he was held fast and being dragged him away from the school, toward a nearby thicket of trees.

"Shinigami, aren't you?" a voice hissed in his ear. "I'm not going anywhere, do you hear me? Nowhere."

* * *